


Shadows in the Light

by ShadowHashishin (DreamshadeTheNightFury)



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: :'(, F/F, M/M, for now no tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 12:34:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4221939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamshadeTheNightFury/pseuds/ShadowHashishin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Altaïr and Ezio were enjoying a night when a knock came from the wooden door downstairs. They opened it finding an abandoned newborn on the steps. Ezio wants to keep the child and raise it as their own. Altaïr is reluctant; searching for the mother and, unfortunately for him, finding her dead. Ezio's wish comes true and the two Assassins raise her as their own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadows in the Light

**Author's Note:**

> Purely my own fic featuring my OTP AltaïrxEzio. The events of both AC: Ezio Trilogy or AC1 have not taken place. Ezio's family is just... mysteriously gone. Don't ask me where they went, because I don't know. Or do I...?

 

A woman’s scream pierces the night’s silence. The sound in full of pain and expectancy. Moments of silence followed before a baby’s cry was heard. Inside an abandoned, crumbling home, the mother cradles her newborn in the cleanest rags she could find, as if her life depended on it. With another pain filled groan, the mother severs the umbilical cord and removes the placenta, blood pooling around her groin. She holds her baby close to her breast and lets the newborn drink her first serving of nutrition outside of the womb. The mother cries silently, whispering, _I love you, I love you, I love you…_

She cries because she must let the newborn go. To give her child a better life, one without poverty or cruelty… _I love you, I love you, I love you…_

The weakened mother struggles to get to her feet, her baby in her arms. She folds a cloth and tucks it roughly between her legs to stop the blood from leaving a trail before she pulls on a pair of old ripped pants, tying them clumsily around her waist. She exits the house and with all the strength she could muster, she stumbled into the inner city.

Minutes later she found the house she was looking for. The large mansion still had a few lights on when she stumbled to the front door. She kneels down to put her newborn on the front step and cries silently before standing up. The mother knocks heavily on the wooden door before hurriedly staggering away, down the winding streets of Firenze. She reaches her abandoned building right before collapsing and weeping. Tears tracing lines on her dirt streaked face. Her once bright blue eyes are now dull and full of sorrow. _I love… you…_

Her breathing becomes choppy and her vision clouds over. _Sleep is… good…_

* * *

 

Ezio Auditore lays in bed stroking the cheek of his love. The Italian was about to lean in to kiss the other man when a loud knocking pulled the two apart. Ezio sits up, the muscles in his chest and torso contracting and constricting in perfect sync. He pulls the sheets off his lower body and stands up. The Assassin gestures for the other, still in bed, to follow him. Together, the two master Assassins pad down the stairs in nothing but their trousers. Ezio opens the door to the courtyard and the two step into the night’s crisp air. The Italian glances at the other figure and smirks.

“Are you cold, _amore mio_?” Ezio asks the man shivering next to him.

“How are you not?” He answers with a question of his own.

“Oh, Altaïr.” The Italian sighs with a laugh. He turns to the door to the outside and asks, more to himself than the Syrian, “I wonder who is at the door?”

Ezio opens the door and finds no one, at least not at his height. When the Assassins look down they see a newborn baby. Ezio gasps slightly before bending down to pick up the child. Altaïr steps into the empty street, looking for any signs of the mother. He frowns when he finds nothing. Meanwhile, Ezio took to bonding with the child. The baby had grasped Ezio’s finger and had brought it to its chest.

“Look, it-- she likes me!” Ezio lets out a childlike giggle.

“Ezio! That is someone’s _child!_ We need to figure out who’s it is!” Altaïr hisses.

“Relax, we will find the mother, I’m sure of it.” The Italian says, “But for now, we must keep her warm.”

Altaïr frowns. _How does Ezio know how to care for children? Never mind, I probably don’t want to know…_ He follows the Italian Assassin back into his home. Once inside, Ezio hands Altaïr the baby and goes to work creating a makeshift bed for her. The small cot had many blankets to keep the child warm; Ezio took the baby back from Altaïr and placed her now sleeping form in the homemade cot.

“Shall we return to our… business?” Ezio says turning away from the sleeping newborn’s bed in the corner of the room. The Italian Assassin interlocks his fingers in the Syrian’s. Instead of waiting for an answer, Ezio pushes the older Assassin onto the bed. He inserts himself between Altaïr’s legs and leans down to kiss him square on the lips, their toned bodies barely touching. The Syrian entangles his calloused fingers into the other’s unkempt brown hair, pulling the Italian closer to deepen the kiss.

 

Altaïr wakes to the newborn’s cries. He blinks the last of the drowsiness from his eyes before fully realizing what was going on. The Syrian sees the younger beside him, still happily asleep. Altaïr sighs before poking Ezio awake.

“Hm-m, five more minutes…” The Italian mumbles, lightly batting at Altaïr’s hand.

“No, get up, now.” Altaïr responds calmly.

“Wha- why?” Ezio asks, shaking his head to clear away the soporific thoughts of sleep.

“The baby.” Altaïr answers shortly. The two Assassins turn to the crying child. Ezio leaps out of the bed, throwing the covers over Altaïr’s head. The Syrian grumbles a bit before slowly getting out of bed. Auditore was already calming the baby down by the time Altaïr got fully dressed. The Syrian walks to the bedroom door, his hand on the handle as he says, “I’m going to search for the mother. I’ll be back later, ḥbyby.”

“ _Va bene, arrivederci_.” Ezio replies nonchalantly as Altaïr leaves.

 

The Syrian Assassin searched for hours with no sign of the mother. Firenze had nothing to offer him until he reached the outskirts of the city when he finally finds something. A small crumbling structure with blood stains scattered on the ground that lead into the building. The abandoned house reeked of death and once Altaïr got in, he instantly knew why. _This must be her. Poor woman… may you find inner peace and asylum in your eternal rest._ Altaïr closes the woman’s eyes and bows slightly. He turns and leaves the building, shaking his head. _Ezio’s going to enjoy this isn’t he…?_ The Syrian grumbles to himself as he walks home.

 

Altaïr comes home to a half dressed Ezio and a sleeping baby. The Syrian pulls his hood off and gives the Italian a grim look. Ezio walks up to him and embraces the older Assassin. After a few moments they part and Ezio pecks the other on the cheek. The younger lets out a loud sigh before asking, “What’s wrong? Did you find her?”

“I found the mother, and well,” The Syrian pauses for a long moment before continuing, “She’s dead.”

Ezio gasps slightly. “What, then, of the child?”

“We will take her in, care for her, train her, and raise her as our own.” Altaïr says with a slight smile.

The Italian’s face lit up with joy. He embraces the fully dressed Assassin and smiles brightly. “Ah, _amore mio!_ We are going to raise her just fine and she will be an amazing daughter, I can feel it.” Ezio lets the older go before asking, “What shall we name her?”

“Šábaħ Ibna-Auditore da Firenze.” Altaïr announced after a few moments of thoughtful silence. “Little Šábaħ, welcome to the brotherhood.”

* * *

 

The air was thick with sweat and effort as a ten year old Šábaħ repeats the same knife sequence for the sixteenth time. Beads of sweat drip down her forehead and back as she finishes the form. Breathing heavily, she leans on her knees as she glances up at the fraying training dummy. The Syrian Assassin folds his hands behind his back as he smiles a little.

"Excellent work, Šábaħ." Altaïr praises his daughter.

Ezio opens the wooden door to the outside as he enters the courtyard. "Ready for the dual sequence?" The Italian Assassin asks Altaïr, gesturing at Šábaħ. The Syrian gives him a flat glance before Ezio says. "Come on, it will be fun."

"We can _demonstrate_ the form but she is not ready for that yet." Altaïr says in a some-what condescending voice.

Šábaħ stands up straight and glances between the two Assassins. She remains silent as her parents decide what was to happen. The ten-year-old fixes the ponytail at the base of her neck, tucking the loose, black strands back in. Her bright blue eyes glint in the setting summer sun as she sheathes her knives.

Ezio glances in her direction, " _I_ think she's ready."

"Clearly, you have never trained anyone in your life, let alone a _child_.” Altaïr says irritably.

“Ah, but the daughter of an Auditore must be trained hard, no?” Ezio smirks. The Syrian glowers at the younger and rolls his eyes.

“Did _your_ father say the same thing when you were ten…?” Altaïr mocks the Italian.

“Funny, _amico mio._ ” Ezio deadpans. “Šábaħ?”

“ _Sì, mentore?_ ” She answers softly, her voice kept low for a ten-year-old. She bows her head slightly at the Italian.

“Altaïr!” Ezio cries in a mocking fashion. “What have you taught our daughter? She acts more like our student than our child.” The Italian kneels down and spreads his arms out; Šábaħ smiles slightly before running into her father’s embrace.

The Syrian Assassin only smirks, shaking his head at the two.

“ _Padre_?” Šábaħ asks.

“ _Sì, figlia_?” Ezio answers.

In a soft voice, she says, “I want to learn the dual sequence, _per favore._ ”

"Ah hah!" The master Assassin cries out, smirking at Altaïr. Turning back to Šábaħ, Ezio says softly, "Now you have to convince _him_."

Ezio points to Altaïr as if he wasn't paying attention. Šábaħ smiles and pretends to sneak over to the nearest stack of crates set up in the courtyard for training, grabbing a wooden practice knife from the table of weaponry on the way there. She climbs up the wooden boxes and poises the training blade above her head. She leaps unceremoniously onto the Syrian Assassin. Altaïr grabs her by the waist and pretends to fall to the ground as if he were defeated. She grins as she holds the wooden blade to his neck.

"Ohw," Altaïr mock groans. "An Assassin! I'm a dead man!" The Syrian holds his hands up in defeat making Šábaħ smile even wider.

"Oh, _amico mio_!" Ezio says playfully. "Spare him, _per favore._ "

"This man is a traitor! He must be killed unless he teaches me!" She answers, giggling. "Daddy, please?"

"To be spared, I'd do anything." Altaïr answers with a smile. "But first you must get off of me."

Šábaħ gets up off her father's chest with a sigh. "Alright fine, but you must promise not to escape."

"I promise." The Syrian answers, holding up his hands.

"Ay! I nearly forgot!" Ezio cries out suddenly. "Leonard is expecting us at dusk. And look."

The Italian points to the darkening sky before hurriedly ushering the other two out the door. They walk hastily through the streets of Firenze to Leonardo’s workshop to meet him for dinner and a very special errand.

* * *

 

******Translations**

Italian

 

_amore mio -_ my love

_amico mio -_ my friend

_Va bene, arrivederci. -_ Okay, bye.

_Sì -_ Yes

_mentore. -_   mentor

_padre-_ father

_figlia-_ daughter

_per favore_ \- please

Firenze - Florence

Arabic

ḥbyby - pronounced "ħabiːbiː" - means love (when addressing)

Other

Šábaħ Ibna-Auditore da Firenze - Shadow Auditore (Auditore's daughter) of Florence

**Author's Note:**

> Ezio: Have fun and enjoy.  
> Altaïr: Come on Ezio, we have things to do.  
> Ezio: Like, share, comment, subscribe, etc, etc, flames will be used to cook dinner. BYE
> 
> #lovewins


End file.
